


Girl That You Love

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: Stay [1]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Exhaustion, F/F, Heist Wives, Insomnia, Post-Prison, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-18 19:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16124939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: Debbie's finally out of prison, and she texts Lou out of the blue. Lou's not sure what she's expecting of the reunion, but whatever it was, it isn't this. Something is very very wrong with Debbie, and Lou just wants some answers.Prompts: 3. Insomnia/19. Exhaustion; 13. "Stay."





	Girl That You Love

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to flightinflame for sending me the prompts, to Fahre for inspiration, and to Why for being an exceedingly patient and appropriately evil sounding board and second pair of eyes. 
> 
> I took one look at the prompts and knew I had to do something with Debbie and Lou for them, but rather than doing the challenge properly with a series of short fics, I ended up planning out a whole series with a story arc and everything, combining prompts into stories. I've never done anything like this before, and I appreciate that I'm not technically doing it properly this time, but I'm excited about it. The whole series is planned, but might not all go up during October depending on how long it takes me to write. Obviously, warning, this is based on Whumptober prompts, and it's going to go pretty dark at times. I promise there will be a happy ending, because I don't do hurt without comfort, it's just that this time there's going to be a little longer to wait. I hope you'll find it worth it.
> 
> Oh, and I'll award cookies to people who figure out what the connection is between work titles as the month goes on

"Where is the fkng cemetery? 12 pm?"

The text from Debbie makes her smile almost despite herself. Sure it's come out of the blue, but there's still something about it that winds back the years. Somewhere in her subconscious, Lou has known Debbie will be getting out soon. The exact date wasn't so set in stone, because parole is an uncertain thing, but Lou never doubted that Debbie Ocean of all people would know how to keep her nose clean, and she could be very persuasive when she tried. It's not that they haven't been talking in the intervening period, but Debbie's always had a knack for poker and playing her cards close to her chest. Having everything in writing only makes her more inscrutable. 

Lou had heard nothing for the first two and a half years of Debbie's sentence. She'd fought with herself more times than she can remember about whether or not she should go and visit. For the first year it had been off the cards entirely - she'd still been too heartsick and angry over everything that had led to this to be able to face Debbie in person. The second year was when the void started to creep in, gradually, when she'd finally allowed herself to consider the idea because it turned out life without Debbie was pretty boring. The problem was that every time she pictured the brunette's face there was a whole surge of emotion she couldn't deal with, and she didn't trust herself not to slap Debbie across the face, kiss her like air, grab her and shake her until she understood just what this was doing to both of them, or possibly just cry. It had crept into the third year, and then out of nowhere a text had dropped into her phone. Lou still wonders about that sometimes, whether whoever got Debbie the phone had programmed a few numbers into it, whether it was a mutual contact... or whether Debbie just happened to know her number off by heart. Honestly Lou wouldn't put anything past her. 

The cigarette racket had been easy to set up, but Debbie has never told her anything about how things were going on the inside, and honestly Lou hasn't wanted to ask. Her imagination can be bad enough at the best of times, and when it comes to Debbie there are a whole lot of things Lou is happier being ignorant of. It’s a lot easier to pretend everything’s fine and Debbie is okay without knowing anything to the contrary. Debbie always has been good at that part of their relationship. 

And okay, so this text is basically out of nowhere too, but Lou knows without even thinking about it that hard that she's going to be there. She also knows exactly where Debbie means, because when Danny died Lou had made it her business to know, and to go, just in case. There'd been a rumour that maybe Debbie would be allowed a day out of prison for the funeral, but funnily enough, given the reputation of her family, that hadn't come to anything. Lou had crept silently into the back to pay her respects. She felt, somehow, that she owed them that, both Debbie and Danny.

If Debbie Ocean is about to come waltzing back into her life, Lou knows that means some things are going to have to change, because no matter how much she intends to just carry on as normal in this mostly legitimate life she's built for herself in the six years since Debbie went away, Debbie Ocean has a way of making people rewrite their plans without a second thought. Oceans have always been that way though, reshaping the geography of an entire planet more or less at their own desire. Not everything about the family name is apt, but Lou has often felt that that part applies.

The club's pretty busy, but Lou's been running it long enough that she knows she has a good team in place who can handle things. It's not like she's never taken time off before, but this... has the potential to be a little different. Maybe a lot different. She can finish out the night here, but then she's going to have to have a meeting with her general manager and then head home to make a few preparations. Like making sure dust isn't covering every inch in the room that's been waiting for Debbie for six long years because Lou wasn't about to just dump her stuff when she moved out here. Disposing of all the worldly possessions someone had while they were in prison would have been a shitty thing to do, and that was ignoring everything else she felt about Debbie. Sometimes it had been nice to have a room that smelt of her to walk into and just sit in for five minutes and breathe. Okay, sure, maybe that sounded a little creepy, but who the fuck was going to judge her for it, really? 

Lou isn't sure of much when it comes to how this situation is going to go down, but she knows there's no way Debbie isn't coming out of prison with some kind of plan, something she wants to drag Lou back into, and Lou isn't sure whether she wants to go just yet. Of course, she also knows that there isn't really a choice in the matter because when it comes to Debbie Ocean the word 'no' has never really entered Lou's vocabulary. She's been pretty okay with the life she's built since. She's gone straight. Well, as straight as she can ever go. It's a solid business with a good reputation because she doesn't stand for the toxic male crap that passes in most other places, meaning it's somewhere women want to come. That's been a bit of a business perk from Lou's perspective of course, but there's always been the spectre of Debbie because no matter what Lou's tried (and she's tried a lot), that's one ghost she can't exorcise. Sometimes she wonders what exactly it is about the brunette that got under her skin twenty years ago and has stayed there, but nothing feels as good as being in Debbie's orbit, and no matter what passed between them six years ago, this is about the most thorough detox Lou is ever going to get, and all she knows is that she misses having that other half of her soul.

She'll say no, because she's happy as she is, or happy enough, and Debbie will look at her and honestly even the /memory/ of those eyes is enough to drown in, and Debbie will explain the plan with such matter-of-fact confidence that Lou's interest will be piqued, and then Debbie will say the magic words. Lou isn't even sure what they are yet, but she knows there will be some because Debbie's good with words, and as soon as they're said, Lou knows she'll be just as suckered in as she ever was before. May as well plan for the inevitable and put the club on notice that she'll be taking a little sabbatical with no definite return date. She trusts her people enough to know it'll still be here when she gets back. 

And if Lou's hoping that maybe Debbie's missed her too, she doesn't give a hint of it away even to herself as she does a sweep through the flashing lights and pounding music, immune to the headiness in the air and checking for anyone who looks even vaguely like they don't want to be there. She runs a tight ship and she takes customer safety very seriously. The safety of their belongings occasionally less so, but, well... sometimes people are just so very, very careless.

***

It's raining, grey and cold when Lou drives to the cemetery in her battered old truck. It's not like she uses it much at all really, but it's more incognito for something like this. That and she's pretty sure Debbie will have some kind of bag with her (even if Lou's unclear on just how she will have acquired it), and she doesn't want to hear the whining about being on a motorcycle in the rain. Honestly, as much as she loves riding in the rain, Lou prefers not to do it with a passenger if it all possible because she knows it's that much more dangerous and she doesn't want to put anyone else at risk. Her own life is another matter. There's still a thrill to having that so much in her own hands, and it's sort of funny to her that she's more of the daredevil of the two of them regardless of Debbie's genetics. 

She's there early. Even after all this time she can't bring herself to be late for Debbie Ocean. It's funny, almost. But Debbie's been inside for a long time and Lou doesn't want to be the one who lets her down straight out of jail. Regardless of what Debbie's got planned, regardless of the sinful ideas that are going to spill from her lips (and the sinful ideas Lou would quite like to indulge in areas other than her lips), it's important that Lou's there for her this once. With Danny gone it's unlikely Debbie has much of a welcoming committee, and Lou knows if she ever winds up in the slammer, having someone there who cares when she gets out would be important. 

It's just after twelve when a black umbrella emerges from the family mausoleum, high heels clicking across the paving towards her. It's only a short distance. Lou had the decency to park close up because she's not sure Debbie owns a pair of flat shoes. Sure enough, there's a little wheelie bag being pulled along behind her, and Lou doesn't doubt for a second that if she checks the luggage tag the name on it will not be anything to do with Debbie Ocean. Despite herself, Lou's heart skips a beat just a little bit when she sees that familiar figure come out, leaping into her throat, because she would know that silhouette anywhere and Debbie looks /good/. 

She's pretty sure that it's more usual for the recently-released to be the thirsty one in a situation like this, but Lou's self-control when it comes to Debbie has always been pretty much nil anyway. 

Debbie's wearing a nice jacket, long enough to be snug which is a good thing in this weather, and a pair of dark wash jeans that almost certainly have a very expensive label on them somewhere, especially judging by the way they hug her thighs. Lou can't see the curve of her ass through the jacket, but she is pretty sure if her memory is anything to go by that's still perfect too. Her hair is down, and it's a style and length that suits her. Honestly it's almost like no time has passed at all. 

Debbie starts by putting her bag in the back, not saying a word, and then slips into the passenger seat. She's barely closed the door before Lou's wrapped her in a tight hug, so tight she can barely breathe, and Lou presses a kiss to her hair because no matter what kind of history they have right now, she just knows it's /right/ to have Debbie at her side again. 

There's the touch of a smile on Debbie's lips as Lou settles back into her seat to drive away. 

"Hey, hey... take it easy. Been in the slammer."

Lou just about resists the urge to roll her eyes, like she hasn't been acutely aware of that for the last six years. 

"Oh, I just thought you'd changed your number."

That raises an almost smile, as Lou flicks her gaze back from Debbie to the road, but there's already something prickling at the back of her neck because something about this isn't quite right. 

Debbie doesn't say a word all the way back to the club, and when she can afford to, Lou studies her out of the corner of her eye. She's fairly sure Debbie Ocean has never been quiet this long before. Sure, back in the old days, when they were partners, there had been plenty of companionable silences. Just existing in the same space as someone could be a perfectly valid way to spend time together, particularly when you were on the same wavelength. This isn't that kind of silence, though. 

Lou isn't entirely sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. She was expecting a plan, some fiendish heist that would need a six figure budget and a huge team if it was put together by anyone but Debbie Ocean. She was expecting complaints about prison, jokes about the food, maybe even the uniform. At a push she might even have expected a thank you, though that would have been out of left field. Their relationship had transcended thank yous a long time ago, because neither of them was any good at letting their guard down and it was so much easier without words. 

They're all the way back to the club before Debbie speaks again, her eyes scanning the set up next to the river. 

"This is nice... chain link, barbed wire... Almost homey."

And Lou rolls her eyes but part of her's just glad that Debbie finally broke the silence because it was starting to get on her nerves a little bit. 

"How about we get inside before you start ripping the home I have so generously opened to you to shit?"

And Debbie shrugs as if to say 'sure, if you want to be boring', and gets out of the car to grab her suitcase from the back. 

Lou heads inside, Debbie on her heels, and groans as she notices the pile of mail on the side for her. 

"Oh bugger..."

Debbie pauses in the entrance, looking around, suitably impressed, and Lou hides a smile because it's not often she manages to render Debbie speechless. 

"...Nice place."

"Try heating it." Lou replies, sorting through the post for the interesting and/or important-looking things as she strides across the space, "There's a room for you upstairs. Your stuff's upstairs too." She half turns back as she walks, shooting Debbie a shit-eating grin and still heading for the kettle because she needs tea before she can confront the contents of the envelopes, because she's a little bit on autopilot, "You know, I borrowed some shit, figured you weren't using it."

And there is a smile on Debbie's lips now, and Lou feels a little bit of tension she hadn't even realised she was carrying bleed out of her because maybe that's a sign that everything's going to be okay. Of course Debbie isn't going to go straight back to being her old self, six years is a long time, and prison changes people, and she's probably exhausted. That's all it is. 

The silence stretches between them for a little while, and Lou makes a cup of coffee, or two, actually, because apparently all it takes is Debbie appearing again for her to slip out of her new routine and back into the old one, no matter how long it's been. Debbie's heels click across the floor and up the stairs, and Lou sits cross-legged at the table and works her way through the bills because she's not going to give Debbie the prize of her undivided attention just for waltzing back into her life. 

The coffee is bitter and black and Lou likes it that way. Debbie always used to take it with milk and sugar, often two. She'd had one hell of a sweet tooth back in the day and Lou hadn't been able to stop herself from adulterating it this time either. She's pretty sure she'll have done it wrong. Coffee preferences seem like an obvious thing to change in prison, but it hasn't come up, and she's not going to call out to ask. Part of her still resents a little bit how easily her life reshapes itself around Debbie, but at the same time... honestly she's just glad to have her back, and she can't imagine what the last six years have been like for Debbie. She knows what the last six years have been like for her, and she might not be able to let that go, but objectively speaking one of the two of them has come off worse and Lou knows it's not her. She chose to make a space for Debbie, she chose to answer that text and meet her at the cemetery. The least she can do really is make her a cup of coffee.

The coffee's cold by the time Debbie comes downstairs, but the brunette wraps her hands around the mug like it's still steaming and settles at the table next to Lou. The blonde is still focussed on work, though she's moved on from the bills to the accounts. Lou is still waiting for the other shoe to drop from Debbie's release, whatever that shoe turns out to be, and she wants to make sure that everything about the club is in the best possible state to be handed over to her right-hand woman in case she gets dragged into something. And Lou always has found numbers reassuring. 

Debbie folds herself into the chair, and even like this, even with her guard down, in a safe place with nobody else but Lou, there's something undeniably captivating about her. Lou wonders about that sometimes, whether it's something Debbie consciously turns on and off, or whether it's just something about her. Whether it's something to do with being an Ocean, or whether it's all Debbie. The Debbie Lou remembers was never shy about taking up space, taking ownership of it, she radiated a confidence which made you want to believe every word she said - that was why she was such a good con artist. 

Again there's something not quite right here, grating on her senses like nails on a chalkboard, because although she's all long-limbed elegance, Debbie is folded in on herself like she's trying to be small, trying to protect herself. Lou knows what it looks like to sink into a defensive posture, trying to sit up proud but still shield vital organs from a blow you know is coming. There are no signs on Debbie of a beating, and maybe its just a default habit. Lou can buy that. You don't want to draw attention to yourself in prison, you sit like you don't want to draw attention to yourself, but she'd assumed, just like everyone else, that it wouldn't take long for Debbie to be ruling the roost. The cigarette racket had only backed that up. This is wrong. This is a bad sign. But maybe it's just something that needs time, she can't panic over just one bad sign. Debbie is here, she's alive, she's moving fine, and okay maybe she's a little quieter than Lou expected and maybe she's a little more subconsciously defensive than Lou expected, but those things don't have to mean anything. Six years is a long time, time enough to form habits that won't be broken overnight. She might not have been to prison, but Lou knows all about how hard it can be to break bad habits. So she takes a deep breath and carries on as if nothing has changed at all, because to all intents and purposes, when it comes to the two of them, things haven't.

She decides to break the silence.

"All settled in upstairs?"

"Yeah, I think so. Thanks for the coffee."

"It's probably cold."

Debbie shrugs, still holding the mug with her fingers threaded around it, and Lou realises she doesn't think Debbie's taken a drink from it at all. She's just holding onto it like some kind of talisman, and Debbie's never really been the sentimental kind.

"You... okay?"

"Of course. I'm fine. I'm always fine."

And /that's/ a lie if Lou's ever heard one, and she likes to flatter herself that no matter what passed between them before Debbie has never lied to her, and she is not okay with this new development. She was expecting changes, but everything about this is starting to make her increasingly uncomfortable. Debbie's walls have always been legendary, but she's never had any with Lou before, and it's hard not to take it personally. If there's one thing she does know, though, it's that demanding answers is not going to make any part of this better. Debbie Ocean is a natural contrarian, and she hates nothing more than being vulnerable. This situation, whatever it turns out to be, is not going to end well for anyone.

***

Eventually Debbie drinks her coffee and heads back upstairs, and Lou leaves her to it. She thinks she hears Debbie leave for a while but she doesn't ask. If Debbie's not going to talk, Lou's not going to ask, because she has spent enough time chasing after Debbie Ocean in this life already, and even if the woman's just walked back into her life, Lou's already tired of having to do all the work. 

It's dark when Debbie walks back in the door, but she's loaded down with bags again and this time Lou allows herself a little smile because she'd recognise those bags anywhere, and she knows what they stand for. 

Lou shuts the account book she's been working in and sets her pen aside, turning in her chair to angle herself in Debbie's direction. 

"Well... what's this, a peace offering?"

Debbie turns away to close the door behind her, not glancing up from behind the curtain of her hair, and Lou realises that since she picked her up, Debbie has not made eye contact with her once. Debbie Ocean never hesitated to look anyone in the eye, and whoever said the eyes were the windows to the soul had never met her. It was amazing how many men could get lost in those doe eyes and find themselves following her every suggestion. Lou herself was more susceptible than she wanted to admit, but the eyes she remembered were bright, sparkling always with mischief, with affection, with pleasure... Debbie's eyes could make you believe anything, but they had never lied to Lou.

"...Yeah. Something like that."

Her voice is quiet, tired, somehow aching enough to make Lou's heart twinge, but Lou stamps on the impulse because it's not her fault, /none/ of this is her fault, and she's damned if she'll go chasing Debbie for information again. Debbie owes /her/ at this point, Debbie is the one who cheated on her, Debbie is the one who betrayed her, Debbie is the one who went away. All Lou has done is wait around for her for six /fucking/ years, then run after her the moment Debbie sent her a one line text and let her just walk straight back into this life she'd built for herself in the ruins of what Debbie left behind. And the thing is, she wouldn't care at all if this was the Debbie she remembered, but it /wasn't/ and everything was wrong and Lou doesn't know where to start. 

But Lou clears off the table and grabs some plates while Debbie pulls plastic containers out of the bags and for a moment it's back to feeling like old times because they fit so well together and the groove is natural. 

She can smell it already, sesame and soy and garlic and ginger and chilli heat wafting up from plastic and foil containers.

"...You know you've got enough food for about four people here, right?"

"Wasn't sure if your tastes had changed."

"Have yours?"

"I don't know, but this is how I intend to find out."

That makes Lou smile and stifle a laugh, because that was a flash of the old Debbie, the Debbie she remembers, and because it's the first honest thing that Debbie has said since she got out. 

"But seriously, what have you got here?"

"Sweet and sour pork, kung pao chicken, beef in black bean, chicken chow mein, special fried rice, spring rolls, prawn toasts, prawn crackers, and half a duck with pancakes, sauce, and greens."

"...How much did it cost you?"

"Forty bucks."

"Isn't that what you came out of prison with?"

Debbie shrugs, one shoulder, a small movement because it's a little bit of a concession. Her gaze flicks up just for a moment, and Lou almost /flinches/ because those eyes are empty and nothing hurts quite as much as seeing that. There's a hint of a smile, sure, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and something is /very/ wrong.

"Worth it."

And in lieu of finding something to say, Lou starts heaping food onto her plate, because she doesn't know where to start and words are useless.

They eat in silence, and the food is good. Lou knows she's not really tasting it, because adrenaline is pounding through her and she can't even identify why. Debbie's eating though, and between the two of them they manage to make a reasonable dent in the mountain that Debbie brought back with her. The rest goes in the fridge, because day old Chinese food is its own kind of treat, and Lou dumps the plates in the sink. It's late. Dishes can wait. 

She rinses her hands and wipes them on her pants and looks at Debbie who still doesn't move to meet her eyes. 

"It's late. I'm going to bed."

And Debbie turns and heads for the stairs with Lou following behind, slipping into her own room without a word and closing the door behind her. 

***

That's more or less how it continues, day after day. Debbie speaks sometimes, but she almost never initiates conversation, and what answers Lou gets are a few words at most. It's been almost a week and Lou's not convinced she's heard more than a hundred words out of the other woman and this is about as far from the Debbie Ocean she remembers as it's possible to get. Since it turns out there is no grand plan, no intricate scheme that's going to require all of Lou's attention, she goes back to running the club. Debbie seems to adjust surprisingly well to that, though as far as Lou can tell she doesn't leave her room when the club's in full swing. 

It's not that Debbie's avoiding her, the woman comes down for breakfast, hangs around through the day, more than happy apparently to exist in Lou's general vicinity, but there's a wall there that Lou doesn't understand and cannot begin to break down. 

It's Friday before something finally begins to shift, a full four days since Debbie moved in. Lou remembers she left something in Debbie's room and goes in to get it. Debbie's downstairs with yet another cold cup of coffee, so she knows she won't be walking in on anything. 

She's on autopilot, moving quickly, not glancing around because this isn't her space anymore, this is Debbie's space, and after six years in prison the woman deserves to be able to have her own space again and be reasonably confident that it's private. She knows she left the cuff in here, about a week ago when she'd slept in here after a bad night and one too many drinks, wanting the smell of Debbie's perfume. Given Debbie's tendencies towards... well, not being that neat, Lou is pretty sure it'll still be where she left it and that Debbie won't even notice it's gone. There's no chance she'll have borrowed it instead, for one thing, Lou would have noticed a hunk of metal like that on her wrist, and for another, that kind of jewellery is really not Debbie's style. 

The sight of the bed stops her dead. Sure, maybe it's the case that prison's like the military, making your own bed seems like the kind of thing the system's probably keen on inmates doing. But Lou lived with Debbie for years, and the closest the woman ever got to making the bed was tugging the sheets back up again. She went weeks at a time with the same indentation in her pillow until Lou insisted the sheets needed changing because otherwise Debbie would never bother. This bed looks identical to how Lou had left it when she checked the room was in a fit state to be occupied. The sheets are tucked in all the way around, the pillow's surface is crisp and unmarred. What the hell? She knows Debbie's not going anywhere at night, Lou locks the doors and the only person with a spare set is her general manager, so where is she sleeping?

After a heartbeat, maybe two, Lou grabs the cuff from exactly where she'd left it and slips it onto her wrist, heading back downstairs and trying to ignore the blood rushing in her ears. Surely Debbie has to be sleeping, right? Maybe she's just... doing it downstairs for whatever reason? Maybe the bedroom's too quiet or something after prison, Lou's heard that prison is never quiet, maybe the bed's too comfortable and the couch downstairs feels more familiar... Tonight she'll check, just for her own peace of mind. She knows it's ridiculous, knows that if Debbie catches her she'll make some stupid joke about Lou being overprotective or something like that. Or, at least, the old Debbie would have. Lou's not so sure about this one, but the risk of pushing her further away is one that has to be taken because suddenly Lou needs to know now that it feels like she has a piece of the puzzle almost within her grasp. 

***

It's Friday night and the club's open late, Lou breezing through it like she always does, though tonight her mind's only half on her work. She'll keep an eye on things until everything's quiet, and then she'll look in on Debbie before she goes to bed. Debbie will be passed out on the couch downstairs, or, hell, even in her bed, and Lou will sleep soundly knowing that everything's fine and it was just her imagination running wild.

When the last punters empty out and she's barred and locked the door behind them, Lou rolls her shoulders and slides her hands into her back pockets to stretch. She's pleasantly tired, the good kind, the kind that settles in her bones and promises a peaceful night ahead. She's just got one thing to resolve first, one minor little niggle. She stretches, and starts heading back towards her part of the club, clearing a few glasses off tables on the way to make it easier in the morning. 

She starts by heading upstairs to change into her own night gear - not that she sleeps in much - to give Debbie a chance to move, thinking that Lou's gone to bed and now it's safe. And honestly, as comfortable as her suits are, Lou is still relieved to be in her shorts and crop top because it's just a whole lot better. She gives it ten minutes, then opens her door again and walks quietly - she doesn't creep, she never creeps, there's nothing to be weird about here - along to Debbie's room. The bed's empty. Well. That's not a huge surprise. When Lou checks it, it's cold. Well, okay then, she really must be downstairs. So Lou heads back downstairs, her eyes scanning the room. Debbie will be here somewhere, sleeping peacefully, and she'll be able to go back upstairs and pass out again before the busyness that is Saturday night. 

Out of the corner of her eye she spots something, and Lou freezes. Well, looks like she's found Debbie.

Debbie's sitting up on the couch in the corner, staring into nothingness, and at first glance she looks like a ghost. Lou can hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as she slowly crosses the room towards her, because enough is enough, and whatever this is is going to end up costing her Debbie all over again if she doesn't put a stop to it now. 

As she approaches, Debbie's eyes slide to her, finally coming back into focus and Lou stops dead because Debbie looks like she's on the verge of breaking. Debbie Ocean has been the strongest person Lou knows for twenty years, and even when the shit hit the fan before and she wound up behind bars, Debbie never looked like this. Lou doesn't think she saw her shed one tear over Claude, because Debbie Ocean does not get upset, she gets angry, and she takes her time to plot revenge, making sure it hits where it hurts every time. Now, though, eyes that used to sparkle and shine with mischief and pleasure and secret jokes are empty and dead, there's nothing there but desperation, and Lou barely recognises her. The bags under her eyes are etched so deep they're practically black, and in this world of silver shadows they might as well be because everything is unreal at this moment. 

This time it's Debbie who breaks the silence, and her voice cracks as she speaks. 

"Can't sleep." 

She turns her head away, and for a moment Lou would swear she's a little choked up, but even now Debbie Ocean takes a deep breath and steadies her voice with the last thread of self control she has left.

"...Not that this place isn't great. It is. Really." 

And her eyes slide back to Lou for a moment and there's the ghost of a smile on her lips before she takes another shuddering breath. Quite honestly, Lou thinks she could throw up right now, because this is setting every alarm bell she has screaming and she wants to find the person who did this to the Debbie she knew and make them /pay/ for it. 

"How long has this been going on?"

"Long enough."

"...And are you going to tell me what all this is about?"

And Lou sighs even as she asks the question, because she already knows what the answer's going to be and she can't keep the exasperation out of her voice, and her eyes widen a little as Debbie smiles because that's a real smile. It's hollow and oh so tired, but it's real enough to touch her eyes just a little. Lou had been so sure that snapping would shut down whatever flash of hope this was, and that was not at all the reaction she'd expected. 

"Can't do that Lou. Wish I could, but I can't."

And Lou swipes a hand back through her hair, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment as she curses the familial Ocean stubbornness. Or maybe this is pure Debbie, she's never been a hundred percent sure on that one, but from what she knew of Danny he was just as bad. 

When she opens her eyes again, Debbie is still looking straight at her and Lou can't remember the last time they had this much eye contact. 

"You know you need to sleep, right?"

And Debbie sighs, sitting forward, hands braced on her thighs, shoulders slumped. 

"Yeah, I know. It's not like I'm not trying, just... well. Got a lot on my mind." 

And it's that damn one-shouldered shrug again and that has /never/ ended well for Lou, not once, and Lou braces her hands on her hips, so very aware that she has to take this chance otherwise Debbie might just slip through her fingers all over again. 

"...Come on. See if you sleep any better in my bed. It always helped before."

And Lou turns on her heel and heads for the stairs again, not looking back because this is all on Debbie and even if her heart's in her throat, she can't make it seem like she's worried. It's barely a minute before she hears movement behind her though, and Debbie follows her back to her room. 

Lou flings herself down on the bed face first in an undignified sprawl because it's her bed, and she's comfy like this. She nuzzles into the pillow with a happy groan, then shifts over, making space for Debbie. Debbie is far more decorous about getting into bed, almost hesitant, and she's stopped looking at Lou again but she's here, and honestly Lou will take anything at this point. 

Debbie curls up on her side, facing the door, and Lou plasters herself to Debbie's back, somehow strangely pleased that she still fits so closely. She slings her arm carelessly over Debbie's waist and nuzzles sleepily into her neck and shoulder. Debbie's tense at first, but Lou can feel the tension bleeding slowly out of her with every breath, every beat of their synchronised hearts. 

There are still so many questions, but it feels like finally they might be on the road to some answers.

Come the morning Lou is the first to wake, which is unusual in and of itself. Debbie is still asleep, chest rising and falling easy and deep, tucked in close. At some point in the night she'd wrapped around Lou's arm, cuddling it to her chest. Lou shifts a little, partially to get a better look at Debbie because she hasn't really had a chance to since she got out, and even now Debbie Ocean is undeniably spectacular, and partially to test whether or not she's actually able to disentangle herself. Not that she's in any particular hurry to get up, bed is warm and comfortable, and better still has Debbie in it again, but it's worth testing the waters. 

It takes a moment before Lou realises that she's staring into Debbie's eyes again, they're open now, deep warm brown and full of sleep, and there's the sweetest little curve resting on Debbie's lips. 

Lou makes to move her arm, but Debbie's fingers interweave with hers, and she blinks up at Lou with all her walls down.

"Mmmn... Stay?"

And the thought of saying no doesn't even cross her mind as Lou eases back down, wrapping Debbie up in her arms again. She always has been powerless to resist, but this time she's hoping it's a good thing. After all, they're finally together again, how bad can it really be?


End file.
